The Plan
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: It's tax season, so when Anthony gets home from the Ministry Tax Office on Friday night, he'd really just like some peace and quiet. Too bad Michael's got other ideas. Why, oh why, did Terry have to move out during tax season? (Michael, Anthony, Terry and Padma- four years after the War.)


AN: This is the same universe as all my other Harry Potter stories, following Anthony, Michael, Padma and Terry. This one-shot is set about 4 years after the war.

* * *

'You know what, Tony?'

Anthony looked at his roommate and friend Michael warily.

He'd only just gotten home from a long day at work, meaning he was exhausted, it was the middle of the tax season, meaning that the Ministry's Tax Office was frightfully busy, and to cap it all off, Terry had only finished moving out just a few hours ago, meaning that there was one less sane person in the flat.

The last thing he wanted to hear was one of Michael's crazy ideas.

'What, Mike?'

The dark-haired Auror grinned at him.

'I'm going to get Terry drunk.'

Anthony sighed.

Curse tax season. It was the only time of year that Aurors actually finished work before the Tax Officials, meaning that it was the only time of year that Anthony had to come home to find Michael already slightly tipsy on a Friday night.

'Why?'

Michael shrugged.

'Because it'll be funny. Besides, Terry's never been drunk. It'll be a new experience for him, anyway, he needs to let loose more! He's the stiffest, most serious bloke I know!'

'He's already a good deal looser than when we first met him...besides, is getting him drunk the best way to do that?'

Michael nodded.

'Of course! And I have a plan! A foolproof plan!'

Anthony flopped down into a chair.

'Mike, it's not going to work. I've lost count of how many times you've tried some sort of plan to get him inebriated, and it's never worked. You're not going to be able to get Terry drunk. He's very, very good at keeping control of himself, and he's not going to drink enough to get drunk. '

Michael shook his head, waving his arms about.

'It'll work this time, Tony! Remember, Terry's just moved in with Pad. After a week or so, he'll be missing bachelorhood so much, he'll _want_ to be intoxicated! All we have to do is facilitate that by providing plenty of liquor, and it'll happen!'

Anthony put his head in his hands.

'Mike...you do realize that Terry's been in a relationship with Pad for about four years, don't you? He hasn't been a bachelor for years. Besides, considering that it's _Pad,_ who's been best friends with us and Terry since First Year, I highly doubt that things are going to be much different now that they're living together. Definitely, things aren't going to be so different or insufferable for Terry that he'd turn to drink. I don't think _anything _would be bad enough to drive Terry to drink.'

Michael looked Anthony straight in the eye, a manic glint in his eyes.

An all-too-familiar manic glint.

Anthony groaned.

'Oh, great. Here we go again. Mike's got a crazy idea for a crazy plan in his head, and he won't rest 'till he's executed it.'

Anthony reached out and poured himself a shot of Firewhiskey.

* * *

Terry sipped his Firewhiskey gingerly.

Michael was trying to get him drunk again.

As usual, that wasn't working.

Firstly, it was blatantly obvious what Michael's plan was.

If it could be called a plan...

Considering how long Michael had known both him and Padma, did he really think that after a week of living with her, he'd be driven to drink?

He'd have to ask Harry if Michael had been hit by any odd curses of late.

'Oi, Terry, have another one!'

Michael filled his friend's glass with Firewhiskey, spilling more than he got into the glass.

The sofa in Michael and Anthony's apartment was going to need a lot of cleaning the next day.

'Quaffles are red, the moon's blue...'

'The moon's not blue! It's not blue! Terry, tell Mike that he's stupid! The moon's not blue!'

'My house is orange...smorange...torange...bloody hell...'

'Nothing rhymes with orange! Nothing! You lose, Mike!'

Terry sighed.

'I was not aware that you and Mike were engaged in a poetry competition, Tony.'

'We are, Terry?'

'I'm gonna kick your ass, Goldstein!'

Terry pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

Normally, he could tolerate his best friends' drunken antics.

Sometimes, he found it mildly amusing.

Sometimes, he also gathered some information that may be of interest or use later. For example, he'd often managed to inform Padma of Michael's various breakups with various girlfriends, thus saving the uncomfortable moment that may have followed when she inevitably asked about them.

However, tonight, they were absolutely insufferable.

He theorised that this was down to the end of the tax season and Michael breaking up with his girlfriend of seven weeks, six days and a few hours.

It meant Anthony could let loose, after being wound up for weeks, and Michael had a tendency to drown his sorrows in alcohol nowadays.

(Nearly making the eight-week mark indicated a long relationship for the young Auror ever since his breakup with Cho Chang.)

Terry downed the rest of his shot of Firewhiskey.

Trying to stop Michael from endeavouring to get him drunk was akin to trying to stop Michael from drinking.

It was futile.

He reached for the bottle of Firewhiskey.

Michael was very mistaken. Living with Padma would not drive him to drink. Living with Padma was honestly more pleasant than living with Anthony and Michael.

(She didn't drink alcohol at all. Thus, he would never have to put up with any drunken shenanigans. And there were other benefits to living with one's partner...)

Terry poured himself another shot.

* * *

Anthony opened his eyes blearily, then immediately shut them again.

The brightness was overwhelming.

He had a splitting headache.

In summary, he felt absolutely awful.

That was the last time he was ever, ever drinking with Michael.

It was a stupid idea, trying to match him shot for shot. It was also a stupid idea, making that bet. Now he was down ten Galleons.

Michael could drink like a fish.

Anthony sighed, trying to remember exactly what had happened the night before.

Michael was still going strong, Terry was ever-so-slightly tipsy...and then nothing.

That must have been when he blacked out.

He tried again to open his eyes, and found a familiar face looking worriedly at him.

'Pad?'

'Good morning, Tony. Are you alright? Wait, no, that's a silly question. How terrible do you feel?'

Anthony just groaned in reply.

She smiled wryly.

'I'll take that as extremely terrible. Here, drink this. You'll feel better, I hope.'

She handed him a cup, and he gulped it down gratefully.

As his hangover subsided, courtesy of the Hangover Potion, Anthony became aware of Michael, stirring from his position flopped over the dining table.

Padma picked up the other cup of Hangover Potion resting on the coffee table, giving it to Michael.

The dark-haired man drank it.

'You're an angel, Pad.'

Anthony nodded in agreement.

'What would we do without you?'

'I think you would all spend most of today feeling very sorry for yourselves...You know, Tony, it was a great idea of yours, to make sure that Terry and I got a Muggle telephone of our own. I got a telephone call from Terry last night, at about one in the morning, saying that he was in no fit state to Apparate home.'

Michael, now mostly recovered, gave a whoop of delight.

'Yes! My plan worked! My plan worked! Too bad I wasn't conscious to see it...Terry, drunk! I'll have to do it again, just so I can witness it...'

Padma raised an eyebrow.

'I don't think you'll be able to get him to drink that much ever again. He was rather worse for the wear this morning, though nowhere near as bad as you two.'

Anthony looked around.

'Where _is_ Terry?'

Padma replied, picking up the used cups, and waving her wand to tidy up the room as she did so.

'I sent him out to go buy some groceries. Honestly, he's only moved out a week, and in all that time, you've managed to completely run out of food, and haven't done any cleaning?'

'Tax season only just finished. I haven't had time.'

Padma shook her head.

'What's your excuse, Mike? I mean, you're grown men! Shouldn't you be able to at least look after yourselves?'

'Pad, they are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. Keeping their environment clean is a different matter. Our dorm was always very messy.'

Terry stood in the doorway, holding a bag of groceries in each hand.

Padma smiled at him.

'True. I guess I should have learnt my lesson years ago; it is impossible to keep any environment occupied by these two tidy.'

Michael pouted.

'We're not that bad!'

'Actually, I think we are.'

'Shut up, Tony.'


End file.
